


The Sports Bra

by PlagueClover



Category: Original Work
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Flirting, Banter, Breasts, Curvy Women, F/M, Finger Sucking, Friends to Lovers, Large Breasts, Neighbors, Nudity, Women's Underwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:47:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26255152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlagueClover/pseuds/PlagueClover
Summary: Olivia's new sports bra doesn't fit! As she's struggling to get into it, right when the mortifying predicament is at its peak, her attractive neighbour shows up.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6
Collections: Prose From the Abyss





	The Sports Bra

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoidwick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoidwick/gifts).



It was too tight. Olivia’s teeth clenched as she tried to shove the soft meat of her breasts into the sports bra. They bulged out the sides, but she wasn’t giving up. She’d waited five goddamn weeks for it to come in the mail, and it was going to goddamn fit.

She hooked her thumbs down the sides, and with a deep breath she gave it a powerful tug and...

RIIIIP.

Olivia froze. Her breath caught in her throat, but one of her boobs was sitting nicely in the cup. Just fucking one.

Her hands slipped away to dangle at her sides. She let out a disappointed sigh, and after a quick glance over her shoulder where she could only guess the tear was from the feel of cool air on her vaguely sweaty skin, she shook her head and went for the kitchen. She’d have to cut this motherfucking thing off.

Well, there was sixty bucks down the drain.

“Hey, Liv!” A voice called out from outside, followed by three rings of the doorbell in quick succession.

She grabbed the scissors out of a drawer. “Door’s open!”

The sound of stomping boots filled the air. The smell of rain came in on a puff of cool air, and a moment later her neighbour appeared in the doorway. Cooper. He was only slightly damp. Just enough to make a mess on the floor, not enough to drip.

He strode in like he owned the place, but soon as he caught sight of her, he stopped, mid-stride. His eyes pulsed wide for a split second, then he quickly averted his gaze. His cheeks burned red. Hell, she could see his blush all the way up his earlobe.

“Uh,” he stammered, “I, um... I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go... No, you know what? I can come back.”

“Come here.”

“Uh... No.”

Olivia blinked at him. “What do you mean ‘no’? Come cut this fucking thing off me.”

There was a beat of silence. Cooper twisted to look even further away. “What the... Why can’t you cut it off yourself?”

“The rip’s in the back.”

“... So make a new rip?”

“Do you have any idea how tough this material is?”

“Can’t be very if you ripped it.”

Olivia snorted. “Wow. No. I didn’t rip the fucking material, dumb dumb, I ripped the seam.”

Cooper hesitated. For a long time. She could see the awkward twitching of his movements. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He glanced towards the exit as if he was considering making a break for it. Then his chin lifted just a little with a decision. “Fine.” He snatched the scissors from her hand. “Could you turn around, please?”

“So polite,” Olivia purred.

Cooper pointed the scissors at her. “Don’t fucking even, Liv.”

“Don’t what?” She turned around.

“You know what.” He cleared his throat and she felt the cool of the blade slipping gently beneath the tight fabric.

For a while, as he carefully snipped at it, inch by inch, he was silent. Olivia could hear him breathing. Tensely. Like he was trying to steady the sound of it, but that just made it sound stiff and awkward. There was a pause as he got higher. Then his cool, vaguely damp fingers brushed her ginger hair forward over her shoulders, and she could feel the wet of his breath between them, faintly dusting her freckled back.

“I was about to cut your hair,” Cooper grumbled.

Olivia glanced back at him. “I appreciate you not doing that.”

“I mean, I could probably manage a rockin’ mullet.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass.”

“Or like those patches from Fallout. Radioactive chic.”

Olivia sucked in a slow hissing breath. She could feel the blade reaching the top of the seam. “Oh yeah? You think I’d be a sexy ghoul?”

Snip.

The bra fell away. She felt his hands freeze for a moment there over the bare skin of her back. Could feel his eyes linger with them. Then he pulled back.

She could feel the distance growing cool against her skin. A needy chill rippled down her spine, and at first she tried to ignore it. Cooper was her neighbour. They gamed together. Giving into a random little tickle just because she wanted to vent after ruining a gorgeous new sports bra would be an incredibly bad idea.

She turned around to watch him go. And just as he pulled the door open, she called out, “Do you want a pickle?”

Cooper stopped. His eyebrow arched and his eyes fluttered with confusion as they darted back to her. “A... pickle?”

Her eyes fluttered to. She opened her mouth to elaborate, but didn’t have an elaboration prepared, so she just ended up gaping at him gaping at her. “Uh,” She finally eked out. “I don’t know why I said that.”

Cooper blinked.

“Actually, yes I do.” Olivia clenched her jaw with resolve. A beat of silence passed between them, then she said, “I want a pickle.”

“What?”

“I want your pickle, Coop.”

“Wha...” His mouth fell open. His head twitched with a baffled shake and he let out a bark of a laugh. “Wait, what?”

And with that, she let her hands slip away from her breasts.

Cooper’s laugh died. A blush burned bright on his cheeks. He gaped for a long moment, even managed to avert his eyes a couple of times, but as the silence stretched on, the braver he got until his eyes finally locked with hers.

“You...”

“I want your pickle.”

“Stop-” Cooper held his hands up. “Please. Stop saying ‘pickle’, Liv.”

Olivia spread her arms wide. A playfully defiant pout tugged at her lips. “You gonna make me, wielder of the pickle?”

Cooper let out a surprised laugh for just a second before he deadpanned and growled, “No. No, Liv. If I’m a pickle anything, I’m a pickle Knight, bitch.”

“Ooo,” She watched as he closed that distance all over again. “My mistake, sir Lance-a-pickle.”

“That’s right. Not a pickle in Camelot is safe from my lance.”

Then there was no distance left to reclaim. Nothing but a few sweaty inches between them. The fabric of his T-shirt tickled her breasts and there wasn’t a damn thing she wanted more in that moment than to just feel it pressing in.

She swallowed into the silence that grew between them. Her gaze flitted down his body, lean and athletic as it was, she’d never thought about it that way before, but now... Now that it was so close, and she could feel her hormones surging, it looked so damn good.

Olivia grazed her lip with her teeth. She lifted her gaze back to his blushing face. “So... You were about to invite me to game or something?”

“Uh, yeah. No.”

Olivia blinked. “No?”

Cooper was already retreating. His shoulders jumped in a quick shrug and he averted his eyes to everything in the room but her. “I mean, I just saw your tits. There’s no way we can do shit together now without it being weird. For at least, like, a week. Week and a half?”

Olivia let out an incredulous laugh. “You haven’t seen my tits.”

“I mean, do you have more hiding somewhere?”

“There’s a lot fucking more to see, asshole. You ain't seen what these babies can do!”

“Is there, though?”

With a dramatic flourish of her arms, Olivia shimmied. “Now you’ve seen my tits, bitch.”

Cooper let out an awkward grunt. His cheeks burned red.

A silence descended over them. Thick and awkward. Olivia could feel the hormones surging in the air, and for a moment, she just stood there, unsure how to recover from her own weirdness. What exactly was the end game? She hadn’t thought any of it through.

“So...” She awkwardly lifted her arm back up to cover what she could of her breasts. “At what point does this joke become not a joke?”

There was a pulse of silence. Cooper’s dark eyes lifted to hers. Glassy. Heated. She could feel them boring into her for a long moment before he said in a quiet, husky murmur, “I think we’ve passed that point.” Then he stepped closer. His hand ran up her arm, to brush over her jaw, and he dipped his head in.

Their lips met. His a whisper upon hers. She barely felt it, save for the powerful chill that raced down her spine, but she felt his breath. Felt his heat. And as he inched closer, she felt more.

His hand ran back down her arm. It found its way to her side. Their lips met again. With more conviction. A hot tongue delved into her mouth with the flavour of mint and spice. Her chest pressed into his. She slid an arm slowly up his, over his shoulder as the kiss drew deeper. As the tongue traced her teeth.

Their kiss broke with a misty puff of air. Olivia’s eyes faltered for a moment. She didn’t know where to look. Couldn’t decide how embarrassed she was as the ball of heat settled in the base of her spine. But as fingers wove into her hair, she lifted her eyes to his.

“Coop.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his blushing face. “Liv.”

“You wanna motorboat me?”

His hand froze. His eyes pulsed wide. And for a moment, his jaw worked like his brain was glitching and he couldn’t get words out.

“Coop?”

“Oh my fucking god, Liv.”

“Well?” A grin danced across her face. She gave a little shimmy and pressed her jiggling breasts in tighter against him. “Do you?”

“Jesus,” Cooper grunted. His eyes fell to them and Olivia could feel his lust straining against her.

“Or would you rather stand here naming religious idols?”

“... Krishna.”

“Really?”

“Fuck you. I’m being inclusive.”

Olivia took his hand. A playful glint in her eye dried the words on his tongue as she guided his hand slowly up the side of her body.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes grew cloudy with heat and he watched, unblinking as Olivia wrapped her lips around his thumb and slowly took it in up to the knuckle. She wrapped her tongue around it. A shiver rode his breath as she began to suck.

“Okay,” Cooper said in a strained whisper. “This is definitely happening.”

“Wait,” Olivia mumbled. “I’m not done seducing you.”

She ran her tongue up the length of his middle finger, holding his gaze the entire time. Then she turned. She pressed her back to his chest. Felt his lust press hard against her ass. And she wrapped his arms around her and ran his hands over the generous swell of her breasts. Let him feel the weight. The size. Let his wet finger graze over her hardening nipple.

Then she looked over her shoulder, into his eyes and in a sultry, breathy voice, she murdered, “Will you be my sports bra?”

A beat of silence followed. Cooper’s eyes fluttered. Then all at once he let out an uncontrollable snort and a bark of a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s so fucking romantic.”

“Well you broke my new one.”

“You made me!”

“Take responsibility, Coop.”

A grin split Cooper’s face, but it quickly faded back into the heat. His gaze flitted down between them, then he bent his head down and brushed her lips with his. “Yes Liv.” His fingers squeezed into the soft flesh of her breasts as he added in a purr, “I will be your sports bra.”

**The end.**


End file.
